


Reboot 119

by supercalifragilis



Category: The Good Place (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-16
Updated: 2018-03-16
Packaged: 2019-04-01 03:28:39
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,207
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13989501
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/supercalifragilis/pseuds/supercalifragilis
Summary: Chidi's POV to reboot 119, will be intercalated with Eleanor's POV in Chapter 2, and so on...





	Reboot 119

DAY 1: Chidi opens his eyes, and looks at the letters on the wall: “Everything is great!” Where is he? Could this be some room of the university he’s never been in before? But then, why can’t he remember anything before this? 

DAY 8: Something instantly feels strange with Alma, his soul mate. It doesn’t feel warmer or any less awkward than with his previous girlfriends. Back when he was alive, he thinks bitterly. His mind hasn’t truly unraveled the ramifications of what it all means, that there is an afterlife, that he is dead, that there are soul mates, but he can already feel the anxiety rising. What if paradise isn’t any less challenging than life on earth? Alma is pretty, in a kind, intelligent way, but conversation doesn’t come easily. It’s hard to tell her the truth, to get her to respond. Of all things, he thought his inhibitions would be erased in the good place. He thought having a soul mate would be fun. He finds himself looking through the crowd, observing the others like he’s looking for something, but he doesn’t know what. 

DAY 17: He had noticed her from afar. She had a special energy, the kind you can’t look away from. She also seemed out of place, on the sidelines, observing. He knows, because he’s there as well. The first time he sees her, she’s at the reception in this big castle. Alma is talking to him about the décor of the place and he is distracted. She is at the bar, making herself a drink and she looks up at him, and she frowns, as if daring him to judge her. Later, she’s in a corner with what must be her soul mate, a dark-haired guy he dislikes immediately, without knowing why, although he wonders. They look uncomfortable, and he feels a sort of kinship with her, but is also reassured that their couple is not the only one to not get the whole soul-mate equation. The guy is ridiculously good-looking, and in that they are well-matched. He spies on them for the rest of the evening. It looks as though he is trying to seduce her, asking her to dance, and she is cold, and dry. He’s only caught a glimpse at her since then, here and there, and always she had that almost fearful look. And just now, she is sitting alone at the lake, where he likes to go to get away from Alma. He sees her too late to retreat, and she’s already seen him. He feels as though he’s intruded on her peace and quiet. “Sorry, he attempts, I guess we picked the same remote corner of paradise”. She chuckles, almost sarcastically. 

“What’s your name, dude?” she asks, looking straight into his eyes.   
“Chidi, Chidi Anagonye. I don’t think we’ve met yet.”  
“I’m Eleanor. Maybe we don’t live in the same area. It’s strange, though, everybody seems to be close neighbors. So, Chidi, what’s your story?” She swiftly moves on the bench so there’s room for him to sit, a clear invitation, which reassures him.  
“Oh, well I’m not so sure there’s a real story to this. I’m a professor of ethics and moral philosophy, and I’m from Senegal.” She just smiles. “Have you been there? Or are you smiling at the ethics part? I know it sounds super boring.”  
“It does.” But she’s still smiling. “Chidi, do you miss teaching?”  
“It was my whole life, so, I guess I should say yes, I do miss having students.”  
“Today is your lucky day.” She turns her body fully towards him on the bench. “Because I’m in need of some Ethics 101.”

DAY 25: He said yes, of course, and soon they meet every single day at her house for philosophy lessons. She tries her best, but he can tell she gets bored, that some of the material is really challenging in a way that her lifetime’s education hasn’t prepared her for well, he assumes. He is patient, though, he knows this to be one of his qualities as a professor. And when she gets something, it’s a truly unique moment of pride shared by the both of them. It gives him a stomach-ache to think about what it means that he spends happier moments with Eleanor than Alma, who he flees everyday by claiming to go study in the library. Today, however, Eleanor is frustrated by Plato’s Republic. It’s dry, long, and unforgiving. In a heated exchange, he ends up asking her why she asked him for classes if it is such a struggle for her. “When you asked, Eleanor, I thought you had an interest, that you liked to study.” He speaks softly, and it seems to calm her anger. Why is this so important to her? She looks at him, piercing through the layers of his soul, and he understands that she’s about to reveal something. Her face tells him that they both know that he’s not going to like it, her sudden gravity tells him that he’s entering into a world of trouble. He sits down next to her. “You can tell me anything.”

DAY 32: From the time she told him her secret, they’ve gained a new ease with one another. Now that she doesn’t have to fake her interest, she responds more frankly and assertively to his lessons. She seems more like herself, as far as he can tell. How difficult it is to try to know someone who also wants to change who they are. They often end up talking about what it means. She shows her full personality to him now, and he isn’t sure he likes it. She’s mocking, sharp, sometimes hurtful but incredibly spirited. She’s also perceptive. She can tell when she went too far on one of her constant mockeries and she soothes him immediately, with a self-deprecating comment on herself, or a silent gesture of appreciation for what he’s doing for her.   
“So, really, if your motivation always determines the endgame goodness of your acts, then as long as you find any sort of satisfaction in something, you’re doing it for your personal gain, or pleasure. How can they determine, here, whether you’ve been good to make sure you’d get into the good place, or whether you truly did good in a disinterested manner?”  
“That’s pretty much Ethics 101, summed up. Well done, Eleanor!”  
“So, you’re helping me because you gain something from it.”  
“I… true, I like to teach.”  
She’s silent for a moment. “I think I like that you gain something from it, because otherwise, this would be awfully one-sided.”  
“If you must know, Eleanor, I’ve been thinking about this as well.”  
“Of course you did, you nerd! Seriously! Do you ever stop?”  
“I don’t think you’re the only one that needs to improve, simply because you know you don’t belong here. I wouldn’t be a good professor of moral philosophy if I didn’t constantly ask myself whether I belong here as well, and what I could do to improve myself.”  
“Improve yourself? Like, be even kinder and generous?” The grimace of her face wants to downplay the compliment.   
He smiles through his blush.  
“That’s not exactly all, though. See, what I wrote about on earth is about what we, all of us on earth, owe to each other. The many contracts and binding agreements we silently make. And, the more I think back, the more I’m convinced that I failed at applying this to my own life.”  
She tilts her head, frowning like when she’s focused. Eleanor is a chatterbox, she’s rude and she interrupts people a lot, but she knows when to shut up and listen. He’s said too much not to go on.  
“I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but I’m indecisive. I take every decision very seriously, because I trained myself early on to think of all the consequences; in doing that, I’ve avoided taking most decisions, and I’ve hurt the people I cared for. I could never commit to anything else than philosophy.”  
“Hmm, I see, so you need to get better at taking decisions. How can you do that?”  
“It’s more than that, Eleanor. Decisions are only the visible part of the iceberg. I need to know my own mind, I need to not reflect so much and speculate on potential consequences. I need to be more assertive. And I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but with you, I fight.” Understanding flashes on her face.   
“By all means. You think you can learn from Headstrong Eleanor how to make up your mind?”  
“I do.”  
“Then let’s go to the Green Smoothie place. I’ll let you pick your flavor and then we can talk about how you felt.”

 

DAY 84: Once he had kissed her, he couldn’t bring himself to stop. It felt like home, like he had never been alive until that moment, although he was still technically dead. Eleanor was kissing him back, and he hoped she felt as elated as he did. They were outside of Mindy’s house, in the open air, and already the tenderness of the first seconds, after a long pause, looking at each other, in awe, had given way to more urgency. He wanted more of Eleanor, he needed to get closer to her, and, if he read her body correctly, the way she moved against him, and roved her hands down his chest, she wanted it as well. He took both of her hands and leaned back against the table. She opened her eyes, and a flicker of her expression told him she was scared he would leave. “Eleanor…wait…are you sure this is what you want?” She nodded, raising one hand to meet his cheek. “I think, no, I know, I want this. I want you. I’ve been wanting you for quite a while.” He had to close his eyes and lower his head. 

Could it be, then, that when the demons put them in the Bad Place, told them about soul mates, they actually were right about this one thing? Perhaps, then, whether you were in the good or bad place, you would always find your soul mate. And it wouldn’t be the obvious person, the cute one they assign you, but rather the infuriating, mocking one. The one who caught your eye the minute you saw her, with her intelligent eyes, and her assertiveness. He was holding her now, and she wanted him too, so it was fair to assume that what he felt, this matching of puzzle pieces, the fire to his calm, the strength to his weakness, she felt it too. That he could have anything to bring to her was a true gift. But then, there was the physical dimension. Sure, he had had girlfriends before, and everything worked more or less the same way, and was pleasurable, but that, just kissing Eleanor, felt like a match had been ignited. It was painful to not be as close as possible to her. He had been picturing her naked for days, to his very moral shame. His usually permanently occupied brain was cleaned out of anything, and all he could think of was to get her naked, to see if the rest of her body would feel as good as her lips did, to roam her body, the butt that tortured him. He liked how daring he felt, reflected back into the way she looked at him, like she was amazed he had made a move, like she waited for what would be next, to not rush him or break the spell. He took her hand, and slowly led her inside.

Once in the guest room, Eleanor felt shy. This was huge, and she was scared. Chidi was so desperately better than her. She had let things happen to her, flowing through this new afterlife with the sole purpose to figure out what felt off. But this, this was the first time something felt important, life-changing. She looked up, he was carefully leaning against the wall, making sure she wanted him still. She felt brave, and took off her blouse. She loved seeing his eyebrows go up and his jaw dropping. He then brought her to him, turned her around, so she was then leaning against the wall, and kissed her again. She brought him flush against her, and started taking off his shirt, moving it apart as she went, as he was grazing her breast with one hand, pressing her against the wall, and grabbing her butt with his other hand. All he could grab was Eleanor, all he could smell was her, and he was intoxicated. She took his shirt off completely, and he saw the admiration in her eyes, and chuckled a bit. She had made side comments about how jacked he was, a part of her general ease with sharing her open, warm sensuality. The comments had made his stomach churn, in a way that couldn’t be mistaken with anxiety. As a philosophy professor, one of the only chances he had to get out of his own head was working out, and he had a strict gym regimen. Mens sana in corpore sano. To see how turned on she was by his body was one of the most powerful things he had ever felt. She was caressing his bare chest all over, and he dipped and started kissing her breast avidly. She took off her bra then, and the next thing he noticed was her hand cupping the bulge in his pants. “I need us to be naked. Now.” She gently pushed him back until his legs met the bed, and she made quick work of his pants. Soon, he was fully naked, and he almost came on the spot when he saw her taking in the sight of him. Eleanor took of her own pants, sat him down, and sat on his lap, her legs around him. “Eleanor, you are so beautiful.” He smiled, and kissed her. She pressed herself over the length of him and he lost himself in the moment, in Eleanor, in her hair in his face, her naked skin all over him, and the center of her flush against his dick, ready. But no, they would only have one first time together, and he would do to her everything he had been dreaming about. He wrapped his arms around her and turned them both around, plundering her on the bed, and kissed his way down. 

At last he had found the one thing that would truly shut her up. She was spell-bound, silent, her eyes pleading for him to continue. He kissed her ever so softly then, on her lower belly. “You smell so good.” She looked surprised. He was a talker. She shouldn’t have been surprised, a professor would obviously like to speak during this. But this was different. It was like another side of Chidi, one she couldn’t get enough of. He was, in this, entirely decisive, confident, and electric. She was petrified. He parted her with his fingers, and pressed his mouth there. She gave a long moan. He kept going, varying the pressure, caressing her belly with his other hand, going all the way to her right breast. She moaned his name now. He didn’t think he had ever wanted anybody this much. He was in pain now, but he would bring her to cry his name with only his lips and her clit. In the sweetest of torture, she started undulating under his ministrations, rising to meet his mouth, and he could tell she was getting close. A few more waves, and she cried out. It was the best thing he had heard coming out of her mouth, ever. Now that he had done this, he felt almost shy to have to go back up to kiss her. He could tell that he was about to experience something that would have no precedent, and that would change his world. She was smiling at him, and he crawled back up, nesting himself between her thighs, towering over her, leaning on his forearms. She was caressing his chiseled biceps. He chuckled “You like these, uh? Am I like one of your mailmen?” As a response, she took him in her hand, to show him what else she liked. He made a sound. “Shut up and do me, Chidi!” 

They stopped smiling then, as he carefully crushed her breast with his chest. One of the best feelings in the world. They looked at each other, in awe of their discovery, and he plunged into her without restraint, knowing that she needed him as close as he did her. She did, from the sound she made. “Tell me how you want it, Eleanor.” Whatever he did now would be perfection for him, but he still wanted to do everything she said. “You decide,” she smiled. He set the pace then, moving into her, adoring the tightness of her and the elation he felt all over. She didn’t know how he could be both so delicate and so strong, it must have been the two conflicting personalities he had. She kissed him feverishly, holding on to him, encircling his butt with her legs. Their smell, their noises, all of it felt right in a way they’d never experienced in sex before. She wanted to drink it all in, his sweat and the expression on his face. When had he taken off his glasses? He closed his eyes then, and she shifted slightly the angle of her hips. He lowered his forehead to meet hers. Usually, she’d turn it over at this point and get her own pleasure from being on top, but she felt like being lazy, and she was mesmerized by this new Chidi that was pounding into her with an unfamiliar determination. She did that thing she knew how to, inside, locking him in, and he chuckled, and kissed his way down her neck. He slowed down, getting her message, and started touching her with his hand. They were both breathless at that point, and his moans pushed her over the edge, just as he was reaching his own peak. 

Later, he stayed on top of her, nestled in her, one knee between her legs. Her hand was on his butt, his hand on her breast. She was the first to speak. “I’ve never felt so intimate with anyone.” He looked up then, “I don’t think I have either.” They fell silent for a while. He raised himself on his arms again, and kissed her slowly, passionately. He got back on her other side, lying back. “Come here”, he said. She did, lying on his side, and he caressed her back and shoulder. He didn’t think he’d ever stop touching her as long as he could. “I don’t know what’s going to happen to us, but I need to tell you something.” She looked up “I love you.” He didn’t feel any anxiety or fear, the usual reactions to those words, pronounced by other women. She wasn’t done. “And you don’t need to respond, cause I know you have trouble saying how you feel.” He interrupted her then, “I love you too.”


End file.
